


French Lessons

by Sara_Ellison



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 16:45:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/750750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sara_Ellison/pseuds/Sara_Ellison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is just one near-death experience too many.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Why has it taken me this long to write H50 fic, when every single episode these two act more and more married?

Danny recognizes the beeping of the heart monitor before he’s even awake, the cold antiseptic non-smell, the just-this-side-of-uncomfortable mattress under his back--he’s in the hospital, again. There’s a tight feeling in his abdomen when he breathes, and a weight on one arm that spreads across his chest. He doesn’t remember hurting his arm, but it’s numb and he can’t move it. He remembers the gunman, running down the alley, ducking out of sight a second and a half ahead of Danny, then the shots fired, the impacts doubling him over and knocking him off his feet. He remembers hitting the pavement, the frantic footsteps as Kono pursued the shooter and Steve stopped beside Danny, shouting something just before Danny blacked out.

He lifts the arm that isn’t pinned down to rub sleep from his eyes, feeling the faint tug of the IV in the back of his hand, and glances down. The weight on his arm proves to be his partner, asleep on Danny’s shoulder with an arm flung across his chest. Danny can’t stop the smile from spreading across his face; Steve is kind of adorable like this, his face relaxed, snoring gently, and...ew. Drooling on Danny’s chest.

“Aw, how sweet,” Danny says loudly, and Steve jerks awake, sitting up and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

“You’re awake!” he says, and nods at the damp spot on Danny’s hospital gown. “You’ve got something on your shirt.”

“Gee, you think?” Danny snaps, but he’s still smiling. “How do you think that got there?” He tries to smack Steve, but his arm refuses to cooperate. “My arm’s asleep. Thanks for that.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Steve counters, “any time, buddy.”

“Any time? What, you wanna make this a regular thing, you snuggling with me while I’m asleep?”

“I was not _snuggling_ with you,” Steve protests. “You were hogging the bed, and I was tired. Took your lazy ass forever to wake up.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Danny says. “Next time I get shot in the gut I’ll try not to sleep so long.”

Steve’s face darkens. “Or you could wear the God damn vest. What the hell were you thinking, tempting fate like that?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Danny retorts. “Next time I take my daughter on a shopping trip I’ll make sure to bring body armor for her, just in case we happen to run into another madman with a gun!” He bites his tongue on the rest of what he’s tempted to say. That moment when they’d heard the screams from the crowd of shoppers followed by the gunfire--if he never sees fear like that in Grace’s eyes again, it will be too soon. Of course he wrapped the bulletproof vest around her and shouted at Catherine to get her out of there. It wasn’t even a choice. He would sacrifice his life for Grace every time. Steve had to know that. He hears himself speaking, distantly. “I’ll tempt fate every damn day if it keeps her safe.”

“Hey,” Steve says. His hands are on Danny’s shoulders, gripping just this side of painful, grounding him. “It’s okay, Danny. I get it. Grace is fine, she’s safe.”

“Yeah,” Danny mutters, shaking his head to clear it. “Where is she?”

“At home. Catherine’s staying with her,” Steve tells him. “They were here earlier, but it got late.”

“’Cause my lazy ass took forever to wake up,” Danny says. “How long was I out?”

“Day and a half,” Steve answers. He sits back, resettling himself in the hard plastic chair. “You were in surgery for seven hours when they first brought you in. It was touch-and-go for a little while, they said, but you’re gonna be okay, you’re gonna be just fine, just need time to recover so you gotta take it easy for a bit.” He says it all in a single breath and seems to deflate at the end of it.

“Okay,” Danny says, and it’s part agreement, part question. Steve is staring at some invisible spot on the bedsheet, not looking at Danny, and he knows this has to be hard for Steve too. Danny knows what it’s like to lose a partner. He reaches out and grabs Steve’s hand, giving it a squeeze, and says, “Thanks for looking out for Grace. It’s good to know I can count on you when something happens to me.”

“Of course, Danno,” Steve says. “You know I got your back.” His fingers tighten against Danny’s.

“We could, uh.” Danny clears his throat. “We could make it official.”

“No.”

It stings like Steve has slapped him. Danny stares at him, trying to work through his confusion--maybe Steve doesn’t understand what he’s talking about. “Grace needs--”

“If you’re talking about me signing some document that starts out _In the event of my death_ , then no, it’s not going to happen,” Steve says flatly. “I can’t--I can’t lose you, do you understand that? I’m not going to just _plan_ for it like it’s some fucking inevitable thing, okay?”

“Most people, when they have kids, they make their best friends the godparents. You took care of Grace the past two days,” Danny points out, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice. “You did fine, right? It would just be that, but permanent.”

“Don’t say that!” Steve shouts, standing up. “Don’t say _permanent_. I can’t deal with that right now. I’ve been half out of my mind the last two days, do you know that? I am so fucking sick of you getting shot!”

“Me too,” Danny agrees drily. He tries to sit up, pushing himself up with his hands, but a stab of pain in his gut stops him. “Ow.”

“Cut that out,” Steve says, and reaches for the bed controls. “You’ll pull your stitches.” He pushes a button, and the head of the bed lifts. He’s still glaring at Danny, but Danny can see him calming down.

“Look,” Danny says, “you don’t have to sign anything. I trust you. I love you. I know you love me as much as I love Grace, so I know you’ll take care of her whether it’s on paper or not.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, visibly relaxing. He sits down again, on the edge of Danny’s bed this time.

“Like you took care of me,” Danny continues. “You did, right? Kono went after the shooter, and you stayed with me?”

“Of course,” Steve says. “I wasn’t gonna just leave you in that alley like Galois.”

Danny frowns. “Galois. Who the hell is Galois?”

“Famous French mathematician,” Steve answers. “Got shot in the abdomen and died in an alley.”

“Who’d want to shoot a mathematician?” Danny asks, confused. “I mean, I hated math in school, but not enough to kill someone over it.”

Steve laughs. “It was a duel,” he says. “Someone had a grudge against him, so they paid a prostitute to go out with him, then called her a whore to Galois’s face. Naturally, he had to challenge the guy to a duel to defend his girlfriend’s honor--”

“And got shot and died in an alley,” Danny finishes for him.

“Took him over a day to die,” Steve says.

Danny makes a wry face. “That’s a lovely story. Thanks for telling me that, Steven.”

“Galois is an important figure in French history,” Steve tells him. “It’s important you know this stuff.”

“Is he really?”

“I have no idea,” Steve admits, chuckling. “How is your non-fatal gut shot, anyway?”

“Three,” Danny corrects him. “Three non-fatal gut shots. And I have no idea how they are, I’m on a morphine drip.”

Steve laughs shortly, then tugs at Danny’s hospital gown. “Lemme see.”

“Whoa!” Danny grabs Steve’s hand. “What are you doing? I’m not wearing anything under this!”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Steve points out, but he lets Danny pull the covers up to his waist before he lifts the gown and carefully untapes the gauze pads.

The wounds are small, red and angry. Two of them had to have bullets dug out; the third, closer to Danny’s flank, went straight through, leaving a nasty exit wound. Steve whistles lowly, then brushes his fingers over the short line of stitches. Danny hisses through his teeth at his touch.

“Sorry,” Steve says. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” Danny says. “Just sensitive.” The flesh is tender, and although the morphine is keeping the pain at bay, he can feel the ridges and whorls of Steve’s fingerprints as though his nerves are bare. He feels suddenly as though he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, and all he has to do is let himself fall.

“Okay,” Steve says, his eyes fixed on Danny’s face, and doesn’t stop. His fingers trace over the planes of Danny’s stomach, skating around the wounds.

“What are you doing?” Danny mumbles. He almost doesn’t want Steve to hear. He doesn’t want him to stop.

“Touching you,” Steve answers. “Is this okay?”

“Is this _okay?_ ” he repeats, his breath catching. He’s hard, tenting the covers, sensation radiating out from Steve’s hands on him and making his whole body hum. “Fuck. Yes, Steve, this is okay. In fact, if you stop touching me right now, I might have to kill you.”

“Jesus. You weren’t kidding about being sensitive,” Steve observes.

Danny makes a strangled sort of noise in response, grabs the front of Steve’s shirt and kisses him. Their mouths meet desperately, open and wet and hot enough that Danny thinks they might fuse together. Steve kisses like he knows Danny’s mouth by heart, like it isn’t the first time, doing things with his tongue that turn Danny into a quivering mass of jelly with an iron-hard erection, and this is only a _kiss_.

One of Steve’s hands has found its way up to tangle in Danny’s hair, cradling the back of his head. Danny grabs the other hand and tries to push it lower, aching for a touch to his throbbing cock, but Steve’s fingers entwine with his instead.

“Doctors said not to overdo it,” Steve murmurs against his lips.

“This isn’t overdoing it,” Danny protests. “This is just you touching me. Come on, don’t leave me hanging here.”

“If I jerk you off, you’re gonna try to thrust into my hand, you’re gonna pull your stitches, and nothing kills the mood like reopening a wound.”

“I won’t thrust,” Danny says. “I promise. Please?”

“You won’t be able to help it,” Steve tells him. “I know how you get, I’ve seen you.”

“What do you mean, you’ve seen me? You haven’t seen me. When have you seen me?”

“I walked in on you in the shower once,” Steve answers, not quite meeting Danny’s eyes.

“Jesus,” Danny mutters, going red. “When was this? You walked in on me jerking off in the shower, didn’t say anything, stayed long enough to analyze my technique and I didn’t notice?”

“Yeah,” Steve admits. “Last year, in March. And you were fucking your fist, all hips and no wrist, so if that’s how you get off by yourself then no, I don’t think you’ll be able to keep from thrusting.”

“You are not seriously blueballing me here,” Danny growls. Steve smirks at him, and he snaps, “What?”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get your _petit mort_ ,” Steve promises, carefully taping the gauze pad back down. “Just not with my hand on your cock.”

“Petty what?” Danny frowns at him. “So, what, are you gonna blow me? Because I’m pretty sure anything more strenuous than that would qualify as overdoing it, still.”

“ _Petit mort._ It’s French. It means ‘little death,’ it’s a euphemism for orgasm. And no, I’ve got something else in mind.”

“What is it with you and the French? You could have just said ‘orgasm,’” Danny points out.

Steve raises an eyebrow. “You wanna argue about word choice, or you wanna get off?”

“Holy mother of God, do I wanna get off.”

Steve grins and nips at Danny’s lower lip. When Danny tries to retaliate, Steve catches the lip between his and sucks on it, running his tongue over the swell of it until Danny moans wordlessly for more. Steve obliges him, a hand at the corner of Danny’s jaw, holding it wide as he thrusts his tongue in, fucking Danny’s mouth as though it’s his cock between Danny’s lips.

Danny is dimly aware that he’s moaning into Steve’s mouth. It would be embarrassing, the noises he’s making, except that he feels so good he just can’t bring himself to care. His entire body is made of light, pleasure radiating out from every pore. He’s leaking precome down his length, and Steve has one hand in his hair again and the other just resting on Danny’s chest under the gown, over his heart.

Steve is devouring his mouth, and Danny can only cling to him for dear life as he steadily falls apart. He’s whimpering now, little desperate sounds of pleasure because he needs, he _needs_ , and he bites at Steve’s lips in preemptive admonishment, _don’t you dare stop_. The hand under his gown slips down to grip Danny’s hip instead, thumb digging into the hollow beside the bone, and Danny needs that there to keep from thrusting into the air as he comes, shooting hot and sticky under the sheets, his whole body shuddering with release.

Steve breaks the kiss and Danny hates him a little for that. “You,” he pants, “you,” and then gives up because he doesn’t know what words he could possibly use right now. Steve is grinning at him, laughing under his breath. He releases Danny’s hip, rubbing gently over where his fingers dug into the flesh, then pulls his hand out from under the covers. There’s a streak of come on his forearm, and he wipes it off on Danny’s hospital gown, on top of the drool stain he already left. “What the hell, dude,” Danny grumbles at him, but he can’t really be mad, because _wow_.

“When I was a teenager, I was the king of Seven Minutes in Heaven,” Steve says. He looks pretty damn smug for a man with a raging boner.

“Yeah, I bet you were,” Danny agrees. He nods at Steve’s lap. “You, uh, you want some help with that?”

A swift knock on the door wipes the smirk from Steve’s face, and a nurse pushes into the room, all business and efficiency. Steve oh-so-casually crosses his legs to hide his erection. “All right, Mr. Williams?” the nurse says. “Your heartrate was a little high, just wanted to check that you’re feeling okay.”

“Yeah, I’m feeling okay,” Danny says, trying desperately not to grin like a fool. _Okay_ is the understatement of the century.

“Good,” she says brusquely. “You know where the button is if you need more morphine, right?”

“Yeah, I got it,” Danny replies. He wants her gone so he can get back to the matter at hand, namely, Steve’s cock.

She nods at him and leaves with a parting shot. “Try not to wear him out, Mr. McGarrett.”

Steve groans, hands over his face, while Danny snickers at him. “And you thought you were being so discreet,” Danny says. “You think she noticed the come you smeared on my chest?”

“Maybe,” Steve says affably. He stands up and unzips his trousers. “Just in case she didn’t, though, maybe we should add some more.”

“You are unbelievable, Steven.” Danny reaches into Steve’s fly and works his cock out of his boxers. It’s heavy in his hand, thick and hot. “Oh, now that is beautiful,” Danny tells him, because it is, flushed dark and swollen, curving upwards just slightly along its length. He tightens his grip and strokes, watching the precome well up from the slit, and Steve groans.

“You’re not supposed to overdo it,” he reminds Danny, “so here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna lie there all nice and relaxed, and I’m gonna fuck your face. How does that sound?”

“Jesus,” Danny says, and his mouth is watering already. He wants Steve’s cock in his mouth like he wants air. He gives it a tug, pulling him closer. “What are you waiting for?” he demands.

Steve chuckles as he gets on the bed, straddling Danny with a knee planted on either side of his waist. His cock is just out of reach, and Danny leans forward to swipe at the head with his tongue, tasting the salty slickness. "Hey," Steve protests, "I said _relax_. I swear you are the most impatient person to ever suck my cock." He pushes Danny back against the mattress, one hand gripping the edge of the bed above Danny's head for balance as he pushes his hips forward, his cock slipping between Danny's lips.

Danny drops his hand from Steve's shaft, because the feel of it in his mouth is so much better than in his hand. It's heavy on his tongue, warm and thick, and he closes his lips around it and sucks hard. The sound Steve makes is thrilling, and he rocks his hips a little, pushing in farther. "Fuck," he says. "You okay?"

Danny answers by moaning around Steve's cock. His hand grips Steve's hip as Steve pulls back a little and rolls his hips forward, thrusting gently into Danny's mouth. Each thrust pushes his cock a little farther in, until at the peak of his thrust Danny's lips are wrapped around the very base of Steve's cock, Steve's balls resting against his chin.

"Jesus," Steve groans, "If I'd known you could deepthroat, I would have had you blow me sooner."

Danny narrows his eyes, watering from the effort of swallowing around the thick head. He can't respond verbally, so he grunts and squeezes Steve's ass, drawing a gasp. He pulls out most of the way, just the tip resting on Danny's tongue, and groans, "Do that again." He's pulsing precome into Danny's mouth, and Danny can feel the tightness of his muscles, the trembling in his thighs.

Danny shifts his hand, his fingertips bunching the fabric and pushing a little into Steve's crack through his pants. Steve's hips snap forward, thrusting fast now; Danny works his tongue along the underside of Steve's cock and rubs between his cheeks, and Steve shouts and comes.

It floods Danny's mouth and he tries to swallow, but some leaks from his lips as Steve pulls out, wringing out the last few spurts with his hand, dribbling onto Danny's chest. Panting, Steve grabs a pinch of Danny's hospital gown and tries to wipe Danny's mouth with it. "Bastard," Danny says, swatting the cloth away.

"I said I'd come on your chest," Steve reminds him. He sits back, straddling Danny's thighs, and kisses him. He sucks the come off Danny's lips, and Danny groans into his mouth.

"I swear to God, Steven, if you get me all worked up again," he mutters.

Steve leans back, grinning. "Sorry. Not my fault I'm such a good kisser." He tucks his cock back into his pants and zips up.

"Actually, I think it kind of is," Danny reasons. He smirks at Steve.

"What?" Steve asks warily.

"You know what I think?" Danny says.

"What do you think?"

"I think you got off on me playing with your ass," Danny says. Steve raises an eyebrow at him. "I think next time we should try putting my dick in there and see what happens."

"Oh," Steve says. "Is that what you think?"

"It is," Danny confirms.

"Well," Steve says contemplatively. "I think that might merit further investigation. When you're better, and actually capable of fucking without pulling your stitches and bleeding out."

"What if I lie here and relax," Danny suggests, "and you ride my cock?"

"You won't be able to keep from thrusting," Steve reminds him. "Later. When you're more healed."

"I'm not made of glass," Danny grumbles, but he knows Steve is right. "Promise?"

"I promise," Steve says. "I'll sign a paper if you want. _I, Steven J. McGarrett, do hereby solemnly swear that I will engage in anal intercourse with Daniel Williams--_ "

"Shut up," Danny says, grinning, and pulls him down for another kiss, which ends with Steve holding Danny's hips still as he shoots off under the covers again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God, this wasn't even supposed to happen, but then when I was writing the previous part, my iPod started playing Mendelssohn's Wedding March and it just sort of got away from me.

The next day, Steve knocks on Danny's  
door and pokes his head in. "You decent?" he asks.

Danny had gotten a clean hospital gown from the nurse after Steve left last night, after explaining with a straight face that his partner had wrapped a handful of the material around his erection and masturbated with it after having twice cause Danny himself to ejaculate in it. The nurse, equally composed, had politely put on gloves before taking the gown off to the laundry. "Yes," Danny says, "I'm decent now, no thanks to you."

Steve smirks at him and pushes the door wide, admitting Grace, Catherine, and a Naval captain Danny doesn't recognize. His name plate says Jimenez. Steve is wearing his dress blues, which Danny finds hot but a little disconcerting. What exactly is going on here?

"Daddy!" Grace cries, running to his side with a huge smile. Danny hugs her tight.

"Hey, monkey!" he says affectionately. "How're you doing? Is Catherine taking good care of you?"

Grace nods, beaming. "We had sleepovers and she let me stay up late."

"Hey," Catherine protests. "I thought we had a deal, Gracie! That was supposed to be our secret."

"Oops," Grace says. "I mean, I went to bed exactly on time every night and always ate all my vegetables."

Danny glares at Steve. "I know she learned that from you. You're a bad influence. Next thing I know you'll be feeding her MREs."

"The beef stew one is yummy," Grace says. Steve has the decency to look guilty.

"That one usually has Skittles," the Naval captain puts in, and Grace grins at him.

Steve clears his throat. "Danny, Captain Jimenez is a JAG. He's here with some papers to be signed. You remember the legal stuff we talked about yesterday?"

Danny raises an eyebrow. "The stuff about Grace, you mean?" Steve was kidding about signing a contract promising to have sex with him, wasn't he?

"Among other things." Jimenez pulls the table over Danny's bed and opens his briefcase, pulling out a thick sheaf of papers. "This makes the two of you legal next-of-kin. In the event of something happening to one of you, the other gets hospital visitation rights, life insurance, custody of your daughter--basically, most of what's blocked by DOMA."

Danny's pen wobbles halfway through his signature. "DOMA?"

"Defense of Marriage Act," Steve says.

"I know what it stands for, Steven," Danny says. He feels a little lightheaded. "What exactly is happening right now?"

Steve kneels down beside the bed--on one knee, and Danny doesn't believe this is really happening--and takes both of Danny's hands in his. "I can't lose you," he says, "so we're making it official. If you want to."

"Commander McGarrett, I _know_ you can do better than that," Catherine says, but she's smiling so hard her eyes are watering. "Try to be a little more romantic."

"Danny Williams, you mean the world to me, and I love you with all my heart," Steve says. "I can't imagine living without you, so will you please do me the honor of becoming my husband?"

There's something in Danny's eye. "You idiot," he says. "Yes. Of course. Idiot."

Captain Jimenez clears his throat. "Steven McGarrett, do you take Daniel Williams to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do," Steve says.

"And do you, Daniel Williams, take Steven McGarrett--"

"I do!" Danny interrupts. Grace giggles.

"And you _will_ take me," Steve adds lowly, so Grace can't hear.

Jimenez visibly pretends not to hear that either. "Sign here, please," he says, indicating the marriage license. "And the witness--Lieutenant Rollins, if you wouldn't mind."

Catherine leans over to add her signature. "What's your part in all this, then?" Danny asks her, curious. "I mean, you're not breaking up with Steve, right?"

"Well, adultery is illegal under military law," she begins.

"But under military law, I'm not married," Steve says. "So we're fine, right, sir?"

"Right," Jimenez agrees. "By the power vested in me by the state of Hawaii, I now pronounce you wedded husbands. You may--" Steve leans over and enthusiastically kisses Danny. "Yeah, okay, you've got it covered." He ducks instinctively as a shower of rice rains down on them, and Grace laughs and tosses another handful in the air.

"I think that's enough with the smooching," Catherine says after a moment, and Danny reluctantly agrees in the interest of decency.

Steve is grinning as he pulls back and turns to look at Catherine. "What's that? You want some too?" He straightens up and kisses her. Then he picks Grace up and kisses her on the cheek as well. "Sorry, sir," he says to Captain Jimenez, "I'm not kissing you too."

"I am perfectly sanguine about that, Commander," Jimenez replies.

"I'll have to stop calling you Uncle Steve," Grace says contemplatively. "And start calling you...I dunno. Stepdad Steve?"

"What, like Stepdad Stan?" Steve wrinkles his nose. "I don't like that. You could just call me Steve, if you want."

"Or Dad," Danny suggests. "Or Father."

"No one calls their dad 'Father,' Daddy," Grace protests.

"I kinda like Father," Steve says.

"Yeah, well, you're weird," Grace says.

"I have to agree," Jimenez says. "There's one more contract. Please note that this is _not_ legally binding in any way, shape, or form, but McGarrett insisted I draw it up." He presents a single sheet of paper to Danny, who leans forward to read it.

"I told you I'd sign it," Steve says.

"You have got to be kidding," Danny says, scanning the document. _I, Steven J. McGarrett, do hereby vow to submit to anal penetration by Daniel Williams, at any place and time and for a duration of his choosing..._ "Oh my God, Steven, you've got to be kidding!"

"I am deadly serious," Steve says, belied by his smug grin.

"What's it say?" Catherine asks. Steve covers Grace's ears with his hands and leans in to whisper in Catherine's ear. Her eyes widen. "Jesus Christ, McGarrett!" she exclaims. "You put that in _writing?_ That is..." She shakes her head. "So hot."

Danny signs the document right below Steve's name. "I am so sorry he got you involved in this, Captain," he says.

Jimenez shrugs. "It's fine. I've seen weirder." He stands, shutting his briefcase. "Congratulations to you both," he says, shaking Danny's hand, then Steve's.

"Thank you, sir," Steve says, and salutes him. Jimenez salutes back and leaves.

Grace does a little skipping dance. "I have two dads now!" she announces.

"Three," Danny corrects.

"Stan doesn't count," she retorts.

"That's our girl," Steve says, chuckling. "Just don't say that in front of your mom." He sits down on the edge of Danny's bed. Danny scoots over to make room for him.

"I am so happy for both of you," Catherine says. She bends down to kiss them both. "Grace and I should be heading home. She's got homework."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Daddy," Grace says. "And Uncle St--er, Father." She shake her head. "Weird."

"Danno loves you," Danny says.

After the ladies leave, Steve settles down against Danny's side. "You know what this is?" he says.

Danny looks at him. "What what is?"

Steve gestures vaguely. "This. Us. Now."

Danny shrugs. "Um...married bliss? Is that what you're getting at?"

Steve is grinning at him in a way that makes Danny a little uneasy. "This is our wedding night."

"No," Danny says, "hell no. I am not having my wedding night in a hospital room with nurses walking in to check on me and that weird antiseptic smell and random people puking and dying on other floors."

"You were okay with it last night," Steve points out.

"Last night was a couple make out sessions and a blowjob and you jerking off on top of me," Danny retorts. "What happens on a wedding night is lovemaking, and you can't make love in a hospital. It simply does not happen."

"Okay," Steve says. "How about this? When you get discharged, we'll have another ceremony. A real one, and we'll invite the rest of the team, and our families, and Kamekona, and we'll get married on the beach at sunset or something. We'll have a proper reception with cake and everything, and afterwards we'll have our real wedding night and fuck each other's brains out in our own bed that doesn't tilt up when you push a button. And in the morning, we'll leave on our honeymoon. How does that sound, Danno?"

Danny grins at him. "You have everything planned out. Do you have a wedding blog, Steven? Do you scrapbook locations and bakeries and photographers?"

"I am not a junior high school girl," Steve replies with as much dignity as he can muster. "I just thought you might appreciate me putting some effort into the most important day of our lives."

"I'm wearing a tie," Danny says, and cuts off Steve when he opens his mouth. "I'm wearing a tie to my own God damn wedding, Steven!"

"Fine," Steve says, long-suffering. "But only if you keep it on when we go to bed."

Danny feels his eyebrows climb toward his hairline. "Oh my God! You love the tie!" he exclaims. "You contrary, stubborn son of a bitch. All this time. You kinky bastard."

Steve gives a sort of half-shrug. "Yeah," he admits.

Danny regards him steadily for a moment. "Okay," he agrees, "I'll keep the tie on in bed. Are you going to wear the uniform?"

"Definitely," Steve assures him. "You wanna take it off me?"

"Or maybe I'll leave it on you, just pull the pants down to your knees and fuck you like that," Danny suggests.

Steve groans and kisses him. "I love the way you think," he murmurs.

Danny kisses back, nipping lightly at Steve's lower lip. "You know," he says, "in New Jersey, people come to Hawaii for their honeymoons. Where are we gonna go?"

"Not New Jersey," Steve says.

"Glad we're in agreement on that. Where _will_ we go?"

"I know a place," Steve tells him. "Don't worry about it. It's a surprise." At Danny's look, he says, "I promise you'll love it."

"I probably will, because I love you," Danny says.

Steve smiles and nuzzles at him, half an inch away from kissing. "Might help to pick up some more French, though," he suggests.

Danny sighs. "Are we going to Paris?" he asks.

"Nope."

"The Riviera?"

"Maybe," Steve replies, looking shifty.

Danny chuckles. "You think I'll need to know more than _petit mort_?"

"No, I think that should about cover it."

"Speaking of which," Danny says, "I don't know if you've noticed, but I find you really hot in that uniform and I've been half-hard ever since you got down on one knee so can you please for the love of God give me some relief and kiss me senseless again?"

Laughing, Steve does exactly that.


End file.
